Dawning in Essex

I saw trees
Spiked against a grey sky
In the distance
A horizon flat and even

I took in great gulps of air
And tried to belong
Under a muddy, grubby sky
In the glimpse of a full moon

I stood at a station
And told myself I could do this
When every moment was a struggle
I still went on

I gripped the greyness in my fist
And pulled it around me as I slept
I took that even line, and wore it
As a belt on my waist

I waited, I was patient
As I took stock
Of power lines
Skittered across an empty landscape

I listened to crumbled words
In the dawn in coffee shops
The stories of tradesmen
Who hesitated in my presence

I painted my nails in desperation
I gazed at the orange, the white
At the dazzle and the glitter
And I let it all seep in

Until the spirit of Essex
Was embedded in my soul
Not to replace my home
But to let me be here

And still be whole

The Viking Housewives of Essex

I am not sure there is that much Viking heritage in Essex,  but sometimes the women of this county get a bit of a raw deal, so here’s to all of them. If you don’t know Essex, I’m sure there’s somewhere comparable near you.

The Viking Housewives of Essex

And why not
Our heritage is wooden boat, hallowed spear
We haunt the nail salons of the high street
In our sparkled designer gear

Our snake skin heels are poison
Our tans are blooded gold
We of the shiny teeth
Are a sight to behold

We shy away from nothing
We are brave in the face of scorn
With carefully crafted strapless sleeves
And things you’ve never worn

We are sass when its needed
Clueless when its cool
But there’s no mistake about it
You’re the one who’s fooled

We like our men quite chiselled
But it isn’t just physique
If he doesn’t have the right car
He won’t get a peek

We are quite ‘assertive’
And its true we are quite loud
But we’re Essex through and through and through
And we are bloody proud.